


Dampfnudel

by Milliethekitty27



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliethekitty27/pseuds/Milliethekitty27
Summary: Connecting with people was hard, and Ludwig was never good at it. Baking, however, let him connect and rebuild bonds with people that he broke.Food is a language everyone speaks.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Dampfnudel

Gilbert never understood why he baked. Ludwig had gotten loads of comments about how soldiers didn’t cook like that, it was a very Austrian thing to do, bla bla bla. At the time it had bothered Ludwig a little, but now he ignored the snide comments. 

He’d had a hard time making friends when he was younger. He’d been quiet and serious and Gilbert was a handful, but he’d had to move around a lot. He had never been a people-person and despite his many skills and talents, emotions weren’t one of them. He had them, sure, but sometimes he didn’t know how to fix things. 

He’d learned to bake very early on, sitting in Roderich’s kitchen. He’d watched Roderich doing something after a particularly stressful meeting. “Baking is good for the soul.” Roderich had said, kneading dough. “It’s soothing. Every nation should be able to cook. And everyone makes food and needs it. It’s a language everyone speaks. Pass me the flour to your left.” Ludwig had tried it the next day, standing on a step stool next to the older man, and slowly learned to make rolls. 

Ludwig could spend hours in the kitchen. He’d look for the perfect recipe for his mood (a tart? A cake? Or maybe something savory?) before going through his meticulously well stocked kitchen. He’d spend hours getting everything tasting just right and decorating it. 

It was one thing that he and Roderich could do together, honestly. They both worked well (even if Ludwig was much neater) and they could listen to music without a problem. They often did the Christmas baking while Gilbert did the decorating with whoever decided to show up. 

Over the years, Ludwig had learned many recipes. He’d done it out of curiosity (new regions meant new cuisines, and while he wasn’t the worst chef his heart lay in baking with the precise measurements and timing) and for fun, but he’d discovered what his friends and allies liked the most. 

When he’d first met Alfred, many years ago when Alfred was a fresh new nation, Alfred had enthusiastically told him about apple pie. They’d spent a few hours making a mess in the kitchen but the end result had been deliciously flaky. He and Alfred hadn’t made it again, but Ludwig still made it every once in a while. He’d added some to it, and he was planning on making it for Alfred at some point just to see what he thought. More recently, though, Alfred had fallen in love with cheesecake. Ludwig sometimes couldn’t get it to set, but they were going to have a contest for flavors at some point. The apple pie would be the grand test.

He’d learned to make dobos torta when he’d lived with Roderich and Erzsébet years ago. He’d sat in the kitchens and listened to Hungary talk, and she’d shown him how to layer a cake and fill it with buttercream. She had a secret way to prepare walnuts (which she still refused to tell him) and in turn he messed with the flavors. She laughed at him when he did it. Her recipe was still better, but one day he’d be able to beat her. 

Roderich’s lindertorte was a masterpiece. Ludwig didn’t try to make it, because it was Roderich’s thing, but he’d watch Roderich make it so many times that he knew how to do it. He had fond memories at Christmas, during the Cold War when everything else was so far and few people would speak to him, of Roderich showing up carrying half a lindertorte. They’d sat down in his recently rebuilt house, the candles lining the windows, and enjoyed each others company. 

He had learned many French recipes in his travels to France, but Francis was a cook, not a baker. He liked to bake well enough but Francis preferred to cook a mouthwatering, fall off the bone beef with a gorgeous side. Ludwig liked to visit Paris and wander through the cafes. He had taken a cooking class, just for fun, and they’d made eclairs. He enjoyed the rhythmic filling up and the shiny chocolate glaze. He’d sent a box to Francis after soundly kicking his ass in football one year (Gilbert had kindly filmed it). While the outside was decorated in French colors, the inside creams had been meticulously colored as the German flag. Francis had screeched. 

For Belle he made chocolates. They’d spent a few days in a chocolate shop, when they were trying to be a bit more civil following the two wars. Tim had appeared out of nowhere and ended up with a splattering of chocolate on his face, and that had somehow led to all three being covered in chocolate. Belle had laughed so hard that she’d fallen on the ground at the sight of the two serious nations covered in sweets. 

With Arthur he’d learned to do tea time, because Arthur could be a snob, but tiny beautiful cakes with fine details were time consuming and satisfying to finish on the days when the world went crazy. Arthur sent him boxes of teas and recipes when he found interesting ones, and some days they’d sit together and read while eating cakes.

The Italian brothers, ironically enough, both liked cannolis. He’d learned that when he and Feliciano first became allies. Lovino hadn’t been very impressed, declaring it a shitty first attempt, but he’d still cleaned his plate. He’d sent a box of it to Feliciano, after the war, with an apology note, and it had been a first step in talking to him again. Feliciano would spend hours helping him make the recipes, and they’d experiment with all kinds of Italian desserts. 

He and Kiku wandered the streets when he visited, finding interesting restaurants, and they’d bonded over a love of food in the first years of allianceship. Kiku understood his interest and often entertained it (cook books were a common gift, and he spent ages letting Ludwig putter around the kitchen to practice new skills) Kiku’s favorite sweet was okoshi. After the dust of World War II started to clear, Ludwig had gone to visit. He’d brought a pack of okoshi with him, that he’d tried to make himself. Kiku had looked up from where he was sitting at the desk, actually laughed, then told him it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever eaten (so it was terrible) and they’d maybe try to make it later. They had. Ludwig was planning on visiting later this year. They were going to try to make daifuku again. The first time they’d done it, Ludwig had ended up with more covering his hands and he’d gotten Kiku to laugh.

Ludwig was no master baker, that was true, but he knew his way around a kitchen and the tools. He liked to do it. He had sent personal peace offerings to his fellows through food, gotten lost after an in depth conversation with a baker. He went to local bakeries for breakfast and any other meal and he loved few things more than the smell of something in the oven. He’d found a recipe for some type of baked good for nearly every nation, even the ones he didn’t know well.

Gilbert was the enigma, though. 

Gilbert had claimed he didn’t have a sweet tooth, and it was true. For all of Gilbert’s habits, he rarely ate sweets. He drank more than anyone Ludwig knew (except maybe Arthur) and ate pretty much anything, but he often had another plate of mashed potatoes and wurst before a German chocolate cake. (which was Ludwig’s personal favorite, for the record) 

It had taken a bit of work, but eventually Erzsébet had told him that Gilbert hadn’t been able to have many sweets growing up (like many of the nations hadn’t) and that he’d simply never developed the taste for them. He was used to long marches and cold winters - he preferred to eat something good and hearty to get him through the night rather than the “prissy little cakes that Glasses eats.” 

There had been one thing, though, that Ludwig had found his brother liked. He’d discovered it by accident. They’d been at a Christmas market, just exploring, and there had been a few food trucks. Ludwig had bought a dampfnudel just because he could (and it was covered in cherry and vanilla sauce) but his brother was pitching a bit of a fit because they were somehow out of sausages. (they weren’t - there were more being cooked, but hungry Gilbert equals bitchy Gilbert) Ludwig had lost his patience and simple shoved the dampfnudel into Gilbert’s mouth. Gilbert had sputtered a bit, but ended up stealing the rest of it to eat himself. 

Ludwig learned to make dampfnudel from there. He mastered a gorgeous cherry sauce and a heavenly vanilla sauce. He’d tried hundreds of dampfnudel recipes and tried different timings and spices. His recipe was unique and delicious. He didn’t make it often, but on the days when Gilbert looked most down, most quiet, on the days when Gilbert spent hours looking out the window? Ludwig went into the kitchen and made dampfnudel. He’d put the plate next to his brother and sit down next to him. They didn’t need to speak, but Gilbert would finish the plate, nudge him, and things would go back to normal within the hour. 

Ludwig loved to bake for many reasons, but connecting with people through food? That was a language everyone spoke.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This is my first posted story on AO3 and I'm very excited. I'm planning on making dampfnudel for Thanksgiving with my friends and I'm terrified of how it's going to turn out - I want it to be delicious.  
> I'm also soft for Ludwig being a baker and spending hours crafting gorgeous cakes and bread but also just tossing together dough and making something I couldn't make even if I had ten thousand years and endless ingredients to fix it. Every nation can probably cook in some form, but not everyone is good at it.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at milliethekitty27-writing if you'd like.  
> Hope you're having a great day! If you're not, chin up. You can do this.


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